


i wait for you and you come around

by noahsweetwine



Category: The Get Down (TV)
Genre: M/M, Wow!, gay as hell!, i was disappointed there was a lack of these boys so here you are, so gay!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 01:21:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10583460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahsweetwine/pseuds/noahsweetwine
Summary: There is a moment where everything he sees is Thor, a moment where his whole world becomes the other boy. He finds he doesn’t mind this very much at all.





	

There is a moment where Dizzee can’t breathe, smoke curling around his lungs, his heart pounding in his chest. There is a moment where everything he sees is Thor, a moment where his whole world becomes the other boy. 

He finds he doesn’t mind this very much at all. 

Later, he wakes up in a hospital. Little stars and nebulas coming into focus, spinning away to reveal his mother, asleep in a hospital chair. For the next few days, he drifts in and out of Rumi and Dizzee. Sometimes he’s the little alien, glowing purple and green on trains, in tunnels, on buildings. Sometimes he’s Marcus, the poor little Bronx boy with no interest in education. Other times he’s Dizzee, eating Jello and crackers in his bed, painting whole galaxies on his ceiling with his fingers. 

Sometimes Ra-Ra is there, sometimes Boo, or Zeke. Once, he thought he saw Thor, but it was just the light coming in from the window. 

Marcus Kipling has never understood love. Sure, he’s kissed, girls. And yeah, he likes the way girls look, soft curves and sharp smiles, he thinks girls are an art form. But nothing has ever made him feel the way he does when he’s with Thor. It’s high without the drugs, it makes his heart do summersaults, it makes the world fall apart and then come back together in a slightly different way. When he’s with Thor, he can be Dizzee and Marcus and Rumi all at once. He hasn’t really been able to make sense of it until now. 

He spends a lot of time in bed, his black book open, doodling with magic markers and pencils Boo brought him. He spends a lot of time asleep, breathing into weakened lungs, trying to feel every inch of himself. He spends a lot of time trying to breathe galaxies into his toes, his fingers, his ears. Rumi has made a home for himself inside of Dizzee’s chest, curled up next to Marcus, allotted himself an area to keep his opera suit, a closet that hangs open, displayed to the world. 

Marcus feels at home here, surrounded by the posters on his bedroom wall, by the paintings on his walls. Rumi feels overcrowded, and Dizzee feels empty. He feels trapped, caught between this two versions of himself. It isn’t like that with Thor. 

One night, after it doesn’t hurt to breathe anymore, after his lungs have patched themselves back up, only slightly different this time, he sneaks out. He makes it past Boo. He hopes his stars will keep his brother safe from the streets he is so attached to. He hopes he won’t get too confident. “Be careful on your surfboard, it’s windy in the galaxy tonight.” Says it all. 

Dizzee hops the turnstiles and takes the last train to the city. He sits on hard plastic and looks at the world that everyone else on the train can’t seem to see. At the pictures and the tags on the inside of the subway cars, at the universe written in paint that he has come to love. 

He walks through late night Chelsea Pier crowds, through white kids strung up and hookers and limos. He can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage, shuddering with every step he takes to Thor. 

He finds him on the roof of his apartment, paint cans scattered below his feet. 

“Do you ever feel lonely?” Dizzee asks, slipping quietly over the edge of the fire escape beside him. Thor just smiles. “Not when you’re around.” 

In his chest, Rumi puts on his tailcoat and Marcus smiles. Dizzee reaches into his bag and pulls out his black book, tearing a page from it carefully. The golden haired boy takes it from him without question. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yes I do. You took Rumi to the opera.” Thor grins at him. 

It isn’t the kind of grin Ra-Ra shoots him when he says something while reading. It isn’t the smile Zeke gives him when he raises his hand in class. It sure as hell ain’t Shao’s smile to get him to shut up. Thor smiles at him like he knows what he’s saying. Like they operate on the same frequency, like they speak the same language. 

“I don’t feel lonely with you either,” Dizzee says, putting his hand on top of Thor’s. “I feel…..” He trails off, choosing instead to interlock their fingers. 

“Remember at the party?” Dizzee says quietly. “And the dancing, and being..free?” 

Thor nods. 

“and kissing,” Says Dizzee, looking at his feet. “I feel like that. I feel free when I’m with you. I can go to the opera. Or the ballet. Or even the white house.” 

Thor looks at him. His eyes are very green. Dizzee bites his lip and searches for more words. If he was Zeke, he could write song after song about Thor, if he was Ra Ra he could spout something philosophical, if he was Shao he’d play music. But he’s just Dizzee. And Marcus. And Rumi. He finds, for once, that that’s enough. 

He’d kissed Thor again, after the party. Crowded up against a building, the other boy's hands on his hips, kissing him deeply, hungrily, so much different than he had in the club. 

He’d kissed him in the tunnel, pressed together in an alcove as cops ran by, shouting and swearing. 

He had a month to think about it all, about the butterflies and bats that fly circuits in his stomach. About the way his heart leaps. He had a month and now, here he was, sitting beside this god of a boy on a rooftop overlooking his city.

Thor looks at him, searching for something. He looks at his mouth, at his lip, caught between his teeth. And he kisses him.

There is a moment where Dizzee can't breathe. Where his world condenses into this beautiful boy, with his hands on the small of his back and his tongue in his mouth and his hair between Dizzee’s fingers. 

There is a moment where everything is real and nothing makes sense, where his heart speeds up and slows down, where all he sees are galaxies and universes and mountains and oceans and Thor. 

He finds he doesn't mind this very much at all.

**Author's Note:**

> pls be nice I wrote this in half an hour while kind of drunk...


End file.
